Page 57 of Restored

“Fine. You’re probably right, I could use some fresh air,” I admit, stretching my sore neck to the side.

“I brought you a croissant, fresh from the kitchens.” She holds up her offering, and I snatch it from her, taking a bite.

“Thank you, I’ll go change.”

“Hold on.” She stops me, gathering my wild, tangled locks into her hands. She tames my hair into a long braid that falls limply onto my lower back. “Much better.” She smiles.

I change and then Mia and I walk to the training grounds.

I marvel at the incredible beauty of the castle, finally seeing it in the light. The stark white stone sparkles bright and seamlessly. The morning sun glitters through the dozens of windows lining the hallways. I can make out the cobalt blue shingles littering the many roofs that seemed to defy the wear and tear of the elements.

Everything appears so pristine, ageless as I drink it in. Mia opens the door to the training yard, and I step through. It’s lush and green, the grass cropped short. There are well-used targets for archery on one side, and wooden dummies lined up along the other. An array of shiny silver weapons sits next to us.

Mia saunters over to the dirt running track that encircles the main training area. She bends down and begins to stretch her lean, muscled legs.

“Please tell me you’re not going to make me run,” I whine.

“We have to build your stamina and your speed, so yes, we run. Get to stretching,” she demands. I curl my lip in displeasure but do as she says.

“We are going to start with two miles to warm up. Are you ready?” Mia shoots me a dazzling smile, and I grimace.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I try to muster some positivity, but it fades as I watch her take off. Her strides are long and fast, powerful and confident.

I spur my body into action, my ribs protesting at the jostling movements. I chase after Mia, determined to not to fall too far behind her.

The cool morning air whips at my skin, my braided hair lashing out behind me. After a few minutes, my lungs burn, and my muscles protest.

I watch Mia; her movements are lithe and nimble as opposed to mine, which are gawky and uncoordinated. She lapsme continuously, but I force myself to keep pace and continue. I relish in the discomfort, the pounding of my heart. It feels equal parts good and miserable to push my body.

All the anger, frustration and fear of the past few days begins to melt away. The present moment comes into sharp focus.

The golden rays of the sun begin to warm my skin as it rises higher. I focus on the rhythmic hammering of my feet on the dirt. Sweat drips from my brow and runs down my face until I taste the salty perspiration.

Ledger enters the training grounds and my stomach flips when I see him. He glances my way before getting out various wooden swords and staffs, laying them feet apart around the yard.

“What is he doing?” I ask Mia as she slows to run with me.

“A few times a week, Ledger trains some children from the city. Some who are struggling with their powers, others who need a physical outlet.”

“Oh, that’s really… nice.” My eyes widen a touch.

“Why do you sound so surprised? I know you haven’t seen the best sides of him, but like I said before, where it matters, he’s good. He struggled a lot with his powers as a child, especially because he has two. So, now he’s made it one of his missions to make sure the kids of Westray don’t struggle like he did,” she says, annoyingly not out of breath.

I consider her words as I study Ledger. He meets my gaze, and I trip over myself, thankfully recovering before I can fall. Gods, the way he looks in this light, morning stubble and tousled hair, is a special kind of torture.

Children start to show up as I continue to run. They appear to be around five to fifteen years old.

I watch each of them greet Ledger with a high five or hug. He gets down on his knee when a particularly nervous-looking little girl walks in. He says a few things to her, and in seconds, she is smiling. After another moment, he even gets a laugh from her and ruffles her frizzy hair.

I can’t seem to keep my eyes off him as he continues his lesson with the children. He’s really good with them, patient and kind. When a little boy gets frustrated, he gets on his level. He takes the boy’s arm and guides it with the wooden sword to demonstrate and then steps back and lets the little boy try.

I get glimpses of him as he moves from child to child, helping where they need. He gives them the right amount of space and instruction. I watch as their faces light up when they do something well and how he praises them.

I’m so focused on watching I hardly notice when Mia comes up beside me, eyeing me suspiciously. “Speed up, Layla, you’re barely moving!”

“I’m going as fast as I can!” I yell back as my leg cramps. I collapse onto the grass, massaging the rebelling muscle. “Ididn’t realize how out of shape I am.” I wheeze as Mia jogs back to me.

“That was barely over a mile, Layla.” I give her a pathetic look, and she sighs, handing me my water bottle.

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